


peaches and cream

by Vault_of_Glass



Series: Kinktober 2018 [11]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, distracted sex, sappy pre-war married smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_of_Glass/pseuds/Vault_of_Glass
Summary: Day 13: Distracted sex, CreampieNo regrets about the title.





	peaches and cream

The kitchen smells of peaches.

River stands among a sea of scattered baking ingredients, her hair pinned up into a messy, flour-speckled coil at the crown of her head. Nate watches her flit from counter to counter like a tireless bird in well-practiced transition, each movement smooth with purpose.

“Need a hand?”

With a glance of amber eyes over her shoulder, River flashes him that brilliant smile and shakes her head. “No. But I could use some company.”

“I’m also great at that.”

Her laughter could melt ice. “Don’t I know it.”

The tempting scent of sugared peaches lures him closer, and River holds out a small, pale slice of fruit for him before he can even ask. He eats it from her fingers and presses a kiss to her knuckles, grinning as the sweetness dissolves on his tongue. He sweeps a few loose strands of hair aside to expose the lean slope of her throat. Her skin is so unfairly soft, like the finest cotton; he just wants to curl up around her and feel her against him always. She giggles when he winds his arms around her waist and cherishes her neck with gentle kisses.

“Naaaate… I’m baking…”

“And you look so beautiful doing it. I wish I could make a calendar, and every month would be you in this apron with flour in your hair.”

“Nathaniel.” Her cheeks blossom with pink; River’s smile always feels so much like spring.

His lips brush the hollow beneath her jaw, and he drops his voice to a low, teasing whisper: “And you smell like vanilla and  _fucking peaches_ , and it’s making me want to eat you right here in the kitchen.”

The spoon slips from her grasp and clatters against the counter. He catches her by the wrist and lifts her hand to suck the taste of sugar and peaches from her fingers. She shivers against him, breathing out a shaky sigh when his mouth shifts back to her throat.

“The peaches…” she moans, reaching out to retrieve her spoon.

Nate chuckles into the curve of her neck. “I won’t stop you.”

Laughing softly, River tips a rill of lemon juice and a flat, fluffy scoop of flour over the peaches, tossing them with expert twists of her hand until they glisten in the sunlight streaming in from the kitchen window. She reaches over for the egg timer, blowing a thin coating of flour from its face; then he hears the crank of her turning the dial and the  _tik-tik-tik-tik_  as it starts to count down.

River sets it back down on the counter with a wicked smile. “You have five minutes.”

Nate needs no further invitation. He drops to his knees and ducks his mouth against her thigh, lifting the hem of her dress to tease higher. Her little gasp of surprise makes his heart race. Lavender lace hugs her hips and the treasure between them, soft and warm beneath his fingers when he tugs it down her thighs. The slick material clings to her skin with arousal before it slips free, and he swallows back a groan at the sight of pink silky folds.

Tilting his head, Nate grazes her skin with his mouth and feels her tense above him. His tongue draws measured passes down the velvet slick of her sex, lapping at honeyed warmth, his grip firming around her thighs when she begins to tremble.

“Nate -  _oh_ , honey, that’s-!” She bites her lip and buries a hand into his hair, using the leverage to grind down into his mouth. He works his tongue against her at the pace she sets, rounds his lips to suck her folds, fucks his fingers gently into her until she moans and scrapes her nails across the counter. They fall into an urgent rhythm, spurred on by the tick of each passing second as Nate curls his fingers inside of her and River starts to arch and -

The timer sets off with a shrill, piercing ring.

Groaning in disappointment, Nate falls back onto his hands and positively devours the sight of his wife breathless and bent over above him. With shaking hands, she tugs her dress back into place and casts her gaze around the kitchen, retracing her steps.

“Pie crust,” he reminds her helpfully from the ground, flashing her an innocent smile.

Amber eyes, dark with pupil, linger on his wet mouth. “What would I do without you?” she muses in a winded voice, her cheeks vivid pink as she crosses to the fridge with clumsied steps, leaving her panties in a heap of lace on the floor.

Nate licks the taste of her from his lips, and his cock throbs with need against his thigh. “Probably get this pie done a lot faster.”

His heart swells in his chest at the sound of her laughter. “I guess that wouldn’t be nearly as fun, would it?” Her hands are still somewhat unsteady when she tilts the peaches gingerly into the pan, filling the shell with citrus-sweet juice and soft white slivers of fruit. She dips a pastry brush in pale blonde egg wash and smoothes it along the edges of the pie shell, and it’s somehow so  _erotic_ to watch her work when he knows her thighs are wet and sticky with arousal.

A knot of craving settles in his stomach at the thought of leaving her so unsatisfied. Hunger gets the better of him, drawing him between her legs once more, and this time River shifts her feet apart to gift him space. Her fingers continue folding the dough into place, though her rhythm falters at the feeling of his breath across her skin once more.

Wet iron warmth hits his tongue. He hears her gasp above him, feels her stiffen and slam her palm against the counter. Her hips rock into every swipe of his tongue, voice hitching up into a high-pitched sob when his fingers part her folds and fill her again.

Soft fingers find his hair and curl around a fistful of thick blonde locks. “ _Please_ \- Nate, honey, you’ve got me so  _close_ -” she pleads, the peaches and pie crust abandoned to grip her other hand at the edge of the counter.

His mouth continues between her thighs with slick, filthy sounds, lips sinking tight around her clit and drawing soft pulls of suction. She whimpers his name and jerks against his hold, writhing, riding the narrow line between  _too much_  and  _not enough_. Nate follows her fitful guidance and urges her closer with every firm, determined touch until her knees quiver beneath her weight and she unravels. Her body forms a rigid bow, hips rolling out the blinding tremors of release as her voice rises and falls in fragile whimpers. The muscles of her sex clamp down and flutter around his fingers, and he groans into her skin, reluctantly relinquishing his grip when she slumps limp against him.

Her pale skin nearly shines with afterglow, the cotton of her dress rucked up over her hips. Nate gently disentangles the clip from her hair, and soft tresses the color of dark chocolate sink down around her shoulders. Still gasping for breath, she leads his slick hand to her waist and arches up onto her tiptoes. He nudges her down against the counter, fumbling to free himself from his jeans, and she whines at the first brush of his cock against her skin. He palms her thighs and tilts them wide to fit his hips between them, where the head of his cock twitches down her glistening sex.

River hooks her feet behind his thighs, urging him closer with a lust-husky groan. “Nate, honey, I’m dying for you.”

He plants a palm into the flour spilled across the counter and licks the fingers of his free hand, curling them hurriedly down the hard length of his cock. He nudges the throbbing head between her thighs, catching in the dip between her folds and slowly driving in, and she’s so wet they slip together with exquisite ease. Her name rips from his throat like something holy, every frenzied wanting thought washed out into a flood of bliss. The perfect fit of her around him steals his breath, and only the pleasure and sweet smell of peaches remain.

Tense and begging desperately for more, River works her hips in little cants that edge him slowly deeper. His hand stretches broad across the small of her back, pinning her in place with hardly a fraction of his strength, and she nearly melts beneath his touch, craving the guidance. He bites his lip and watches himself sink into her again and again. His cock shimmers with slick on every downstroke, and the sight of her stretching around him grips a shiver of satisfaction down his spine. She pants and moans against the counter, taking him with loving murmurs as he leans down to nip the back of her shoulder.

Nate breathes her name between sucking bites down her throat, and the sound makes her clench briefly around him, her shoulders trembling with pleasure. His head spins, stunned by the snug grip of her sex and her nails scoring divots into the muscle of his thigh and her voice quivering through moan after desperate moan.

“Want to feel you,” River pleads as she rocks back against him. “Want you to fill me, honey, come inside me -”

Her voice echoes like church hymns in his head, pure and otherworldly, every prayer he’s ever uttered suddenly fulfilled in perfect comfort when he spills inside his wife with a wounded groan. He clutches her hips in his hands and fucks her deeper, filling her in thick cords of white, and they shudder together at the intimate, thrilling sensation.

“ _Yessssss_ ,” River sighs, moaning under her breath as he rolls a shallow circle with his hips. His cock nudges inside of her, forcing a rivulet of cum down the slope of her thigh. She squeezes weakly around his length, her expression smoothed out with relief when he maintains that perfect contact.

Finally, regretfully, they part, her swollen folds clinging greedily to his cock as he withdraws, gleaming with arousal and the white of his cum, and he could almost fuck her all over again at just that mesmerizing sight. Once the strength returns to his weak limbs, he helps her gingerly to her feet, soothing the flush in her cheeks with tender kisses.

River laughs faint giggles, her eyes dark and dazed under low lids. She smells like sex and peaches, lips curving up into a sated little smile as she stretches up to kiss him. “My husband. You are such a fucking treat.” They laugh together in breathless whispers, and she glances over her shoulder at the half-finished pie on the counter. “Y’know I think I might need a hand with this after all…”

Nate sweeps her easily into his arms and sets her on the edge of the counter, kneeling between her thighs with an eager smile. “And once I’ve had my fill of you, little wife, I’ll be happy to help you.”


End file.
